


sweet and divine razor of mine

by summerhurleys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dream Sequences, M/M, Mute!Castiel, and everything is horribly OOC because this is my first SPN fic i'm sorry, and we're only in the LAST part promise, basically the OCs are me and my friends sorry not sorry, highschool!au, inspired by music whee, ugh this fic though, yes Cas is a wee bit socially awkward
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhurleys/pseuds/summerhurleys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel didn't experience this warm, bubbly feeling in the pit of his stomach until he heard the croon of <em>Dean's</em> voice that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet and divine razor of mine

**Author's Note:**

> After listening to a number of songs on the album "Dizzy Up The Girl" by The Goo Goo Dolls, I was inspired to write this fic. It's rather messy for a first part, and I'm sorry 'bout that! It's my first dive into writing fanfiction for this fandom, hopefully I will get better soon! ;)  
> I should have probably watched more episodes before doing this too....hehehe.....  
> I'll probably go back and edit this fic before summer ends.  
> Otherwise, please kudo, comment, or bookmark if you enjoyed this fic! :)

_“They painted up your secrets,_  
With the lies they told to you,  
And the least they ever gave to you,  
Was the most you ever knew”  
-“Acoustic #3” The Goo Goo Dolls 

-+-

Castiel Novak didn’t speak much. Well, he didn’t speak at all. Not a single word in twelve years. He hides in his warm, comforting fuzzy sweaters and doesn’t say a peep to anyone. He fades into the background of the classroom and doesn’t answer the questions the teachers ask the class, knowing that they would never pick him to answer. 

The only friend he had was imaginary, a boy just his age named Cillian. They had conversations in his head, and they would play games together, if one counted Tic-Tac-Toe and single player Connect Four to be games. No one knew that Cillian existed, and they didn’t need to know, Castiel figured. He didn’t even use him as a character in the prompts he was assigned in his creative writing classes. 

Castiel never stuck around after school, none of the clubs he knew he’d be any good in accepted him, and chess wasn’t a game he enjoyed much anyhow. (He preferred checkers.) So every afternoon, he’d grab his denim shoulder bag and walk himself to the library, where nobody cared if he was there. He never made noise aside from the time he knocked over an entire bookshelf of audiobooks. He was clumsy, he had to admit. The books in the library sucked him away into different worlds, where he’d be the savior protagonist, for books with adventure were ones he liked best, after books of poetry. 

He wished he could speak sometimes, for he never knew why he stopped talking. He wished he could speak so he wouldn’t be so _fucking awkward_ around everyone he knew, like Gabe and Lucifer. It would make life tons easier if he could answer his consoler’s questions about his feelings without having to use pages of paper to write it all out. Castiel wants to speak, that’s his biggest wish in the universe.

At home, Castiel stayed in his bedroom, content with listening to Chopin and watching documentaries on the dinosaur ancient television he has in front of his bed. He likes to learn about things, about people, so crime shows, _Animal Planet_ , and The History Channel are the main things he watches. By now, he’d be able to tell you how to control your cat if it’s acting like the devil and how shooting your spouse is not the way to go if you want his/her life insurance. 

Some nights, his brother Gabe will come into the bedroom, and trash everything around him. He’s annoying like that. But he’ll pass on news about the house, and offer to fix him food if he’s not feeling up to leaving the room to get it himself. Castiel thinks that that is the best and worst part about not having a voice in which to speak with. People help him out with things.

This can have its perks and cons. Like if he doesn’t want to do something himself (generally when he’s found a good BBC doc on some culture he’s never heard of, a movie gone to TV, etc.) one of his brothers will generally get the message and _might_ get him something. It’s rather unpredictable. Sometimes though, like in school, the people who notice he needs something will overdo it. That deed makes Castiel frustrated, and he almost wishes he could slap them silly, but he’s a good boy, so he doesn’t.

So, Castiel Novak has lived this silent, secluded life of fantasy and reality and annoying bystanders most of his life, he never expected it to change.

But change it did, when brothers Dean and Sam Winchester become students at his school.

 

-+-

_“I wanna raise a child,_  
I wanna raise a child,  
Won’t you raise a child with me, raise a child?  
We’ll call her Nebraska, Nebraska Jones  
She’ll have your nose, j-ust so you know”  
-“Settle Down” Kimbra

-+-

The first day of _Dean_ starts off as normal for Castiel. Wake up, proceed to sleep for ten minutes, get up and get ready for school, leave for school. Once he gets to school, he pays no mind to the gossiping in the cafeteria as he buys himself a meager breakfast of sausage and biscuit with milk. He doesn’t notice the curious looks of the two boys sitting across the table from him, their questions to him that he never heard as he crumples the wrapper up in his hands and free throws it in the trashcan. Maybe he’d be good at basketball if he could talk.

He runs to his first period Calculus class, and slides easily into the seat in the back right corner of the classroom. There’s nobody in the immediate two seats around him in any direction, which suits him just fine. Less chances to be caught in a compromising one-sided conversation with some classmate he never had the chance to observe. He never observes his classmates like he does strangers at the park or mall, it’s rather disturbing in his mind, to eventually figure out the habits of your peer. 

Once he’s in his seat, he pulls out his textbook which has paper spewing out of the pages, notes and homework and writing waiting to give paper cuts, and he pulls out the correct piece of paper somehow, putting it on his desk neatly. He doesn’t see the new student walk in, or notice that his classmates’ voices have risen considerably. Not until he hears a deeper, new voice.

“Is this Calculus class for sophomores?” the voice says, and Castiel quickly turns his head in the direction of it. 

There stands a boy not too much taller than him, and he notices the freckles right away. They dot across his face lightly, and accent his dirty blond hair well, which is short is neatly trimmed, there’s a duck tail at his neck though. He’s wearing a plaid shirt and a worn brown leather jacket, with ripped jeans and old looking tennis shoes on. 

“Yeah, this is Calc class. You must be the new student everyone’s been talking about since this morning!” a girl named Anna chirps out, sounding bleakly excited. She has every right to, Castiel thinks. This guy’s pretty dang cute.

“The name’s Dean Winchester. Moved out from Lawrence a few months back.” _Dean_ says, and his emerald eyes scan the room, possibly looking for a place to sit. 

Anna makes a move to say something, but Dean’s already on his way towards the seat next to Castiel. Castiel doesn’t try to stop him, but he suddenly wishes he had worn his Yale sweatshirt which he could pop his head and limbs in and hide from the world. He’s not wearing the sweatshirt though, he has on a simple black and grey striped turtleneck in the middle of October. Worse enough, he’s wearing oversized sweatpants that make him look like a middle aged alcoholic. He’s never felt so fashion conscious in his entire life.

“Hey, you’re that guy who didn’t talk during breakfast! What’s up with that?” Dean asks, plopping his things in the seat to Castiel’s left, and slithers into the chair, the movement almost makes Castiel shiver.

But Castiel cannot answer Dean’s question. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, and a small squeak comes out, nary a word though.

“That kid’s a mute!” a few of his classmates answer for him, and he grinds his teeth together and wishes they would be mutes for one minute of their lives. _Now Dean’s gonna think I’m insane!_ Castiel thinks, of course he had yet to be astonished. 

“Oh. That’s fine.” Dean says thoughtfully, and _boy oh boy_ , Castiel wonders why he hasn’t fainted yet. “I’ll just pass notes to you, if that’s your thing.” 

Castiel nods and fishes out the notebook he has specially for writing notes to people.

_I’m Castiel Novak, I already know who you are._ He writes, and gently pushes the brown notebook across the joined desks where Dean grabs it swiftly and begins to write.

_Nice name, but I think I’ll call you Cas, sounds….Cool. How long have you been mute?_

They pass the notebook back and forth between them, even as the lesson begins and Castiel knows that Dean should be taking notes. 

_Dean, don’t you need to pay attention to Mr. Rupert?_

_What about you? You’ll need to pay attention too if you’re forcing me too._

When Castiel gets the notebook back and reads Dean’s reply, he has a small grin on his face, and it almost hurts because, to be completely honest, he doesn’t smile often. He puts it away and tries to focus on the lesson, but Dean keeps creeping into the edges of his thought, and it scares him slightly because he’s never thought so much about a person before in his life. 

It’s a weird feeling and he wants more of it, that much he knows.

 

-+-

_“What’s wrong, what’s wrong now?_  
Too many, too many problems,  
Don’t know where she belongs,  
Where she belongs”  
-“Nobody’s Home” Avril Lavigne 

-+-

 

Castiel dreams that night. It smells of burgers and sounds of rock music, _Dean_ is there. He’s not sure as to the dream’s meaning, and he has little time to contemplate, because just as it seems that Castiel will have his happy ending, it all turns sour.

There’s a loud thunder and he’s spiraling, _round and round and round,_ in circles and there’s flashing lights. Castiel tries to reach for something, anything really, but fails as he slams to the ground, he awakens with a start.

He’s breathing fast, and there’s a storm brewing outside, the thunder is louder than he’s heard in years, but there’s no rain that he can tell on his window. This is when he realizes that his hands are clutched tight to the duvet and he’s made a small hole in it with his fingernails. 

Unsure as of what to think, he reaches for his remote, which sits on the nightstand, and cuts on the TV, trying to find a distraction as he sinks into an episode of _Modern Marvels_.

 

-+-

_“Aren’t you somethin’, an original,_  
Cause it doesn’t seem merely assembled  
And I can’t help but stare, cause  
I see truth somewhere in your eyes”  
-“Mirrors” Justin Timberlake 

-+-

When Castiel sees Dean again, it’s a few weeks later. He doesn’t know where he had been, just that he had disappeared just as fast as he had come. But now he had returned, and so had his younger brother Sam, who almost terrified him with his great height. 

Dean was not at Calculus class that day, and it threw him off when he sees him during his lunch period, surrounded by four girls and a couple guys. Castiel’s skin crawled at this, for he really wasn’t one for interacting with others he really didn’t know. But it was _Dean_. He needed to observe Dean, he was different and he could tell it well. 

Fortunately and unfortunately, Dean notices him before he gets halfway across the cafeteria, and he wonders if it’s his puke orange sweater that made him more noticeable as he quickly makes his way to the table closest to the lunch line, where Dean, Sam, and the others are seated. A girl named Elizabeth lets him sit between her and a girl with rather short hair named Zoe, who sighs in exasperation when he scoots in. Castiel fumbles with his drawstrings as everyone starts to eat their meal, the cafeteria cheeseburger won’t sit well in him, he knows, but it tastes so good he can’t resist as his hands then dart to the wrapping to unwrap it. 

“So guys, this is Cas.” Dean starts off in his deep voice, and it nearly startles Castiel into dropping his burger in his lap. 

“The one you were talking about that’s in your Calc class?” one of the older students, Sammy, asks nonchalantly, nibbling on a carrot, which Castiel noticed she had snatched from Sam when he wasn’t looking moments before. 

“That’s him! He’s not doing any talking, and that’s what Deanie said!” Zoe blurts out, then sighs loudly and places her chin on the table and faces Castiel. “You’re kinda cute, Cassy.”

_“She makes up weird nicknames for you, Castiel.”_ Cillian interrupts Castiel’s thoughts, and he grimaces. There are times when he’d rather his imaginary friend butt out. 

“I thought you’d be more….Taller. I guess not, though.” Elizabeth says in-between bites of her homemade noodles. 

Castiel decides to sigh then, he figures that if everybody gets to have a word in edgewise, then at least he should do something, too. Sam looks up from the textbook he’s reading, and crooks up an eyebrow. “Getting tired of us already?” he asks, looking Castiel straight in the eye.

“Zoe’s not being her normal crazy self, so I think it’s rather bland myself. Hell, half of you aren’t even _looking up?_ ” Sammy says in response to Sam’s question, her bluntness makes the other occupants to the table hurriedly shut their books and pay attention to the conversation, making Dean chuckle quietly. 

Castiel treasures that small tinkling of Dean’s voice, and throughout the rest of the lunch period, replays it through his head like he had been re-envisioning the words in the notebook, which he had put away in a drawer for safekeeping and had replaced. 

When he silently relays this information to Gabriel later that day, his elder brother sends him a look and says, “You are totally fucked for Dean Winchester.”

 

-To Be Continued-

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Elizabeth, Sammy, and Zoe are basically me and my friends~ (I'm Zoe, I swear I cannot write myself *facepalms*) And Cillian is a dear tumblr friend, and if he reads this, I'm sure he'll know who he is, he encouraged me along with Sammy to write this! ;)  
> I need to fill out some requests, so it might be a whee bit before this gets updated, but don't worry, it will! :D


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